


Bruises and Body Armor

by Merelymine



Category: DCU - Comicverse
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-15
Updated: 2009-12-15
Packaged: 2017-10-04 11:10:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merelymine/pseuds/Merelymine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim doesn't ever do this...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bruises and Body Armor

Every breath sends a sharp ache along his side as Tim sneaks into his Robin's Nest from the roof, Zachary Zatara cursing steadily as he follows behind.

“Thanks for all your help,” Tim says to Zat as he turns on the lights in the small apartment.

They've been working on a case for eighteen hours straight now, practically the same amount of time that Zat's been _in_ Gotham.  If Tim was working alone he would just keep going, but he needs Zatara for this, there's just too much magic involved. Too much... weird. It's too much for Tim to deal with on his own and besides, they're both exhausted, even though Zat tries not to show it.  Tim pulls off his mask and runs a hand through his sweaty hair.

“Hmm. Not a problem,” Zat replies as he leans against the counter in the kitchenette.  His hair is a mess, the normally impeccably pressed white shirt he wears is wrinkled and dirty.  He shucked his jacket off as soon as they entered the apartment, and now he's looking Tim up and down critically as he takes off his bow tie.  “Take off your suit.”

Tim stares at him.  “What?"

Zat rolls his eyes.  “You're obviously injured.  Take off the top of your suit so I can have a look at it.”

“I'm fine,” Tim insists, surprised.  Zatara's right, but Tim is so used to taking care of himself that he doesn't quite know how to react to the request.  He shifts a little under Zatara's watchful eyes, and winces as his suit moves as well . Some of the body armor was damaged earlier when he was thrown against a dumpster and it's been aggravating him ever since.

“You're stubborn is what you are.  Now strip.”

Tim snorts back a laugh, removes his cape and gauntlets and then starts on his suit.   “I'm stubborn?  And what suddenly makes you qualified to check injuries, Dr. Zatara?"

"Hey, I know things," Zatara replies as Tim strips off the top part of the suit.

One of the interior plates of body armor has cracked.  Thankfully the force hadn't been enough to break it completely through, just enough to bend it painfully against his already damaged skin.

He holds it up to Zatara.   “See? I'm fine.”

Zatara stares at him blankly, like maybe he thinks Tim's a little stupid.   “Take off your undershirt,” he demands.

Tim stares at him, but Zat just stares back and eventually Tim gives up.  Even though they've known each other for a long time they've never really been close, but Tim knows that particular tone of voice, and knows it means 'I'm not going to shut up until I get my way.'   It's been a while since he's heard it, imperious and commanding and 'I'm better than you' all at once.   It's so oddly familiar that it makes him smile.

“So that's it?” Tim asks teasingly.  “No 'how are you, Tim'?  No 'are you seeing someone'?   Just 'take off your shirt.”   He shakes his head sadly.  “Where has all the romance gone?”

Zatara's mouth curls up at the corner as if he's trying to hide a smile.  “Such a charmer,” he says, before thoroughly destroying every hint of expression from his face. “But seriously.  When I first joined the Titans my cousin made me promise her that I would always make sure you didn't hurt yourself out of sheer stubbornness.  She seems to think you Bats need looking after.”

"Yeah, well you can tell Zatanna that she doesn't need to worry about me--”

“Yeah, well Zee is a little terrifying,” Zatara interrupts, obviously mimicking Tim's tone, which he's a little chagrined to find sounds rather petulant.  Zatara twirls his hand around in a circle, a get-on-with-it sort of gesture.  “Shirt.”

Tim glares at him, and this time Zat does smile.  “You're not going to intimidate me,” he says cheerily.   He looks thoughtful for a moment.   “But keep glaring if you want. It's kind of hot.”

Tim blushes and drops the top to the floor.   He manages to pull his undershirt up and over his head without wincing, but it's not easy.  Zatara steps forward immediately, making a low sound in the back of his throat, and places his hand flat against the truly spectacular bruise blooming deep and purple-red along Tim's ribs.

His hand feels relentlessly cool against the fevered skin.

“It's not that bad,” Tim says.

“Hmph. You guys do nothing but kill yourselves for this damn city,” Zatara says crossly.  Then he adds, almost to himself, “I wish I could do more than just watch it happen.”

“You've been a great help today,” Tim begins carefully, but Zat interrupts him, looking up from his inspection of Tim's side.

“That's not what I meant.   I wish I could make you _stop_.”  His deep green eyes are clear and sharp.  Serious.

Tim freezes.   “That's--”

“Oh, I know it's foolish,” Zatara continues breezily, completely unimpeded by the ice in Tim's voice.   He looks back down at the bruise, his brow furrowed as he feels gingerly for broken ribs.  “I just wish, you know?”

Yeah, Tim does know.   He had a taste of normal once, and found that he couldn't make it stick, no matter how much he wanted to.

"Sometimes I wish I could just walk away,” he admits quietly.  "Just get up and leave one day and never look back.”

Zatara looks up from inspecting Tim's ribs, and Tim meets his eyes almost nervously, feeling like he just gave away the dirtiest of secrets.  There's something speculative about Zat's gaze, and it sends a warning thrill up Tim's spine.  He's suddenly aware of just how close they're standing.

“You won't though,” Zat observes, placing a steadying hand against Tim's chest.  “You never will.   Just like I'll never be able to go back to the way my life was before the Titans.”

Tim unconsciously leans into the touch.  He asks, “Is that such a bad thing?”, knowing full well that in many ways the answer is 'yes'.   Being a hero, saving people, it changes you forever.   Makes it hard to ignore all of the little wrongs in the world.

Zatara, unsurprisingly, laughs.  “It sucks, quite frankly, and you know that.  I'm not made for all this heroic business.  I'm much better suited to having legions of adoring fans.”  He shakes his head, almost like he's trying to knock loose all those unpleasant thoughts, and his hair, as it moves, brushes against Tim's own.  “But it is what it is.  Sometimes you just have to go with it.”

“Yeah? How very zen of you,” Tim says absently.   Zatara's eyes are brilliantly green at this distance.

“Yeah,” Zat says, and Tim watches him square his shoulders and straighten up, like he's preparing for something.  They are almost the same height. “You just keep that in mind, all that zen, okay?” Zat says, and before Tim can parse what he means he's being kissed.   Warm mouth, the smell of Zat's skin, and while part of him had known, certainly, had acknowledged the tension and was waiting for this, his mind is still screaming with surprise.

His brain completely stops being helpful, locking down.  Thankfully his body knows what it's doing, knows what he wants, and he reaches out and pulls Zat closer, kissing him deeply.   It's been a long time since he's kissed anyone like this, long enough that Tim loses himself in it quickly, gets twisted up in the feeling of someone under his hands. In the strangeness of Zat's mouth, full of the latent electricity of spent magic, faintly coppery as they kiss.

After a moment Zatara pulls back, and the blush across his cheeks makes Tim think for a moment that he might apologize, but his eyes are hooded and considering, and really Tim doesn't think that Zatara has ever apologized for anything in his life.

So he's waiting on Tim, letting him decide what to do. How bizarrely charming.

Tim leans in and watches Zatara's eyes close.  He kisses him, tries to keep it slow and deliberate, but the instant their lips meet Zatara just opens up, and before Tim knows what he's doing he's pushed Zat up against the counter, one hand on the small of his back and the other on the side of his face, tilting his his head to open his mouth for a deeper angle.

Zatara shifts, moving the hand that was on Tim's chest up to curl around his shoulder.  His other hand is still on Tim's side, a carefully delicate weight over his bruised skin.

That is until Tim lightly sucks on Zat's tongue, and his fingers curl into Tim's skin.   It's a dull, deep pain, and Tim gasps into the kiss, thrusting his hips forward automatically.

Zatara makes a startled sound into his mouth, and the kiss turns dirtier, heavier.

After a moment Zatara pulls back, breathing hard. His hand is firm against Tim's side, a bright spot of pain that moves him back as Zat steps forward, keeping his eyes on Tim's face.  Tim tries to kiss him again but he just smiles sharply and moves back, pulling Tim with him, and they stumble the few steps to the bed.

Then they're down onto the bed, and Tim follows him eagerly, crawling forward to press him down, kissing his smirking mouth.  He can't get enough skin, and his fingers fumble, thick and stupid, with the tiny button's on Zatara's shirt until Zat takes pity on him and breaks the kiss to mumble “sehtolc ffo”.

_Magic is brilliant_, Tim thinks, because they're suddenly naked.   A zing like the memory of static races along his skin wherever they touch, every point of contact lighting up.   He can feel Zatara's erection pressed hard against his stomach, his own sliding against Zat's sweat damp hip, and Tim kisses him again as they move together.

He drowns in it, the sensation bright like sunshine against his skin, dark and primitive where it surges in his blood.  Zat's skin is smooth against his own, free of scars and bruises, almost unfamiliar in texture.   Tim takes as much time as he can bear dragging his hand down Zat's side, over his thigh, letting his hand curve around to hitch his leg up a little, to move them around and bring their bodies closer together.

Zatara throws his head back and swears, and the arch of his throat is a perfect place for Tim to hide his face.   The sounds he's making go straight to Tim's dick, the clutching fingers digging into his shoulders just serve to urge him on, and when Zatara lets his hand drag down to Tim's bruised side, his fingernails scraping experimentally across his ribs, he loses all semblance of control.

This is moving so fast, far too quickly for what Tim's used to. He doesn't ever do this, doesn't let himself lose it like this--

Tim tries to move against the frantic energy burning under his skin but it's getting harder and harder to think, to coordinate his clumsy limbs to do more than just thrust against Zatara, smooth skin slick now from the both of them.   The pain in his side just adds a sharper edge to the onslaught of sensation, the friction as he moves his hips, the blunt curve of Zat's nails where they dig into his skin.  Tim can feel Zat's pulse pounding in his throat, just under his lips, and when he opens his mouth and sucks in that patch of skin Zatara goes still.

Swears something Tim can't make out and comes, warm and wet between them, and that's all it takes to drive Tim over the edge as well.

Tim lies there for a moment, just breathing, his face pressed against the join of Zat's neck and shoulder.  He's probably squashing the air out of him, but Zatara doesn't make him move, just draws random patterns over his skin with his fingers, careful now to avoid his side.

“There,” Zat says, as though this was his plan all along.  He's still a little breathless.  “Isn't that better?”

Tim smiles.  “I dunno,” he answers, once he thinks he can manage to form an understandable sentence.  “Now my side _really_ hurts.”

“About that,” Zatara says thoughtfully, stroking his hand over Tim's ribs with a little more pressure.  “You are not as boring as you'd have people think.”

Tim laughs into Zat's neck.  He's so sleepy now that he doesn't even want to move to get cleaned up.  He shifts a little so that he's not laying completely on top of Zat.  “I don't know about that,” he replies.

“Mmhmm. Sometime”, Zatarra says sleepily, his words slipping together, “I am going to tie you up and see what you'll let me do to you.”

Tim's not quite sure how he feels about that, but at least it means this doesn't have to be a one time thing. He reaches for the throw blanket that's tangled up in their feet, spreading it across them.    Zatara hums, shifting a little and curling into Tim as they both drift off.[](http://www.statcounter.com/free_hit_counter.html)

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr @ [merelymine](http://merelymine.tumblr.com)


End file.
